Changing
by amorae
Summary: Bella has recently been changed, and is floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. She's confused, and in more pain than she ever thought possible. But will it all be worth it? Unsure if this will be a oneshot or not...


I got this idea totally randomly. Kinda scared me at first but I just wrote it because I felt like it...I edited it a bit, but nothing changed majorly.

When there's a transition of "----," it's basically signalling that she passed out again--I mean, she's completely passed up in this until she wakes up (xP) but I mean she REALLY passes out when I do the "----." Hahhaaaa!

Random note: Lostprophets rock...I'm listening to A Town Called Hypocrisy right now. WHEE.

**Disclaimer**: 0MGGGGG 1 1Z N0T $T3PH3N13 M3Y3R! Translation: I'm not Stephenie Meyer, nor will I ever pretend to be.

Heheh. Enjoy, my fellow Twilight fanatics!

* * *

My body aches, but that is all I know. I feel as if my whole entire being is on fire, but the embers are dying down. Now my charred and dead skin is throbbing with a dull ache, for my nerves can no longer send the sharp signals of pain. They must be content with this slow moving signal, which, taken into consideration, makes the pain almost more severe. It truly feels as if I'm underwater; I couldn't move even if I wanted to. All I can do is curl into a tight ball and scream silently.

The thick plasma in which I am floating in will not shift. Why can't I move my limbs anymore? Why would I ever want to move them, anyway? Wouldn't moving my limbs just make my burnt body scream in pain? Maybe the plasma is here to protect me. Maybe I am immobilized for my own good. I am unsure, but what does it truly matter, anyway? I feel as if I am going to die.

Dieing. I think, if I were to die, I would have died when the fire had first started. I wouldn't be dieing right now. After all, don't most people die once the fire gets into their body? The fire started _within _my body, not on the outside, however. It wasn't as if I jumped into a pit of fire, and was dieing (of course, Edward would have murdered me right then and there if the fire didn't get to me first). I was bitten and the venom started to work its deadly magic upon me.

The pain. It was unimaginable, unbearable, unstoppable, unyielding…and it consumed me. It filled every portion of my body, snaking into my fingers. Snaking into my toes. Snaking into my lungs, filling them with a scream that I could not produce, for the venom drifted to my face and froze it in a strangle hold of anguish. I believe I passed out sometime then.

I could have imagined it, but I think I remember Edward holding my hand tightly. Before I closed my eyes in hurt, I saw Alice hovering over me. Emmett and, surprisingly, a not glowering Rosalie stood next to Alice. Rosalie was gripping Emmett from the back. Emmett looked upset. Carlisle and Esme stood, watching over Edward—the one who had bitten me—to make sure he did not get carried away. But, of course, he did not get carried away. He loved me. He told me before he bit me, after all.

Then I had to close my eyes. I let out a howl of pain and writhed on the couch. But, of course, there was no where to turn to; I could turn away from Edward, as I had, ripping my bloodied arm away from him, or turn towards him, as I had shortly after, and bring my hands toward my body. But, no matter what I did, I could not turn away from the pain. The pain was coming from inside of me now.

At this current moment, I am unsure of where I stand. All I know is that I am in pain, very much so. I feel worse than I would have if I had jumped into a pit of fire. I feel worse than I would have if someone had slowly killed me. This is pain beyond limit. I hope it does not last long.

Edward had said it should only last three to five days. But I don't know what day this is. Is it day five? Is it minute two? I really don't know. I'm not sure if I'm even conscious. All I know is that the pain encircles me and there really is, no escape from it.

Maybe this was why Edward had not wanted to change me. I now see where he was coming from when he fought so hard to keep me from this incredible pain. But, yet again, I know that when it finishes, I'll be with him. I will be like him. I will be able to proudly stand as a vampire, along side Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and of course Edward. I will be able to play games with them. When vampires come to say hello, I will not be considered a "tasty snack." I'll be their family. Haven't I always wanted that? I've begged and begged to be considered family. I want to stay with Edward for my entire life—whether that is one hundred or one thousand years. All I want is to be with him.

----

Am I numb to the pain? I am unsure. I believe the pain has been firing within me so long that I have become raw to it and can no longer feel it as strongly as before. But that could just be wishful thinking coming from the sickly vampire-to-be.

----

It burns! The pain has started up again—or perhaps gotten stronger. It's almost as horrible as it was those first few seconds, moments, hours, that I had been beginning to change. It feels, now, as if tiny suns are flaring inside my body. I can't stand it. I thrash against the protective plasma, moving sluggishly, trying to scream but unable. Is my throat burning? Why is my throat burning!? Why can't I scream?

I curl up into an even tighter ball of protection and whimper. This is pain to the extreme. This is pain that no artist could ever create. This is pain that no journalist would ever be able to portray in words. I can't believe it, to be honest, and I am living through it.

Why is it so painful? Is it punishment for being so breathtakingly beautiful? Is this the single punishment for having to drink blood? Is this how the creator had thought to pay back the vampires? If it is, I believe he has gotten even.

Even though my eyes are sealed shut tightly, I imagine that I am seeing myself lying on this couch. My skin is black and caked with flames that dance up and down upon it, dancing to a frantic tune that only they can hear. Edward, Alice, everyone is somewhere else. I am alone on this couch. I am alone.

No, that's not true. I am not alone.

I have the pain with me.

----

What day is it? Is it still day one, or have I been floating in this abyss of pain for years? Maybe I will never be free. Maybe that promised future with Edward will never happen. Can it be possible that I have died? Maybe I have, but for some reason I'm not in heaven. I'd say I was in hell but I have a hard time believing that. I think I'm in purgatory. But why? Because I am in love with a vampire? Because I'm becoming one? Because I wanted to become one?

All of those reasons seem so unfair. Why should vampires go to hell, anyway? They aren't evil. They didn't ask to become vampires (or, at least, most of them didn't, and even those who did probably didn't know what they were in for, like me). And especially those who do not drink human blood—why are they damned to an eternity of hell when they disappear off of this earth? It seems like such a rash decision of the upper being. You would think he would be more just. You would think he wouldn't be so strict. Maybe I am the one being rash, saying that God is rash. I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to be dead.

What ever happened to Edward and I being together forever? That is what I want. I don't want to die. I really do not want to die. Maybe, however, I am already being denied my wish. After all, vampirism is death when you still live. Vampirism is a curse, isn't it?

But, Edward isn't a curse. He's a blessing. Alice is no curse. Emmett and Rosalie are not curses. Carlisle spent centuries trying to train himself to withstand the sight and smell of human blood to help protect the creators of his most secret desire. Carlisle is certainly a blessing—to me, to Edward, to the entire Cullen family, and to those families who have been brought back together thanks to his amazing abilities in the field of medicine.

Alice is a blessing as well. With her lithe movements and her ability to see into the future, she is more or less a blessing to the Cullen family as well. She can almost always predict when something will occur, and she can put a stop to it if it is bad. She can help it happen if it is good, just as she helped convince Edward of changing me. She's a blessing to me for that reason as well. It would be a horrible insult to call her a curse.

And, of course, Edward. He certainly isn't a curse. He can hear what people and vampires alike are thinking, thus being able to stop anyone from hurting his family—and me. He could tell if a vampire was thirsty so then they could hide me. And, in a more personal note, he was mine. He was the one person who gave me life when I felt Forks was taking it away from me. He was a reason to live. Of course he upset me during the beginning of my obsession, but over the course of a few months we became close; very close. He became the reason I chose to get up everyday. I became the reason to why he didn't just let himself die.

There were times when we hit rocky edges, of course, but all in all he has been my life. He is my blessing, with his beautiful figure and his beautiful mind. I've always been so thankful that I am the one known exception to his extraordinary ability. If he could hear what I thought of him, he would quite possibly think me mad. But, yet again, maybe not; I often told him how I felt about him.

I have come to the decision that if vampirism is a curse, than being a human is also a curse as well. It would have to be. Maybe everything is just a curse. Maybe there are only blessings when you want them to be. That would make sense, I suppose. Everything a curse—and only blessings if you believe them to be.

Or could it be the other way around?

----

It is so cold, so unbearably cold. I don't know why, either. The fire hasn't dwindled. Is it possible that it has become something of a cold fire? As in, the flames are freezing instead of burning? That would be strange. Or it could also be that the fire is so hot, that my body can not take it and is sending signals that it is cold.

I'd shudder if it weren't for this plasma that suffocates me. It's a blanket pressing against my form, against my arms, against my entire body. I cannot breathe. But, oddly, I do not feel the need to breathe. Of course I can't exactly tell that my chest is not rising and falling in time to my lungs filling and collapsing, but I have a strong hunch that if I were to see myself, I would seem dead.

I hope Charlie doesn't come looking for me. It would depress both of us to see each other like this.

But, of course, I will have to fake my death, of a sort, after this, will I not? I can't tell Charlie and Renee that I'm a vampire. The conversation would be awkward. I'm unable to even imagine their shocked faces. Charlie would probably grip me tightly by the shoulders and then call the nearest hospital to put me under a therapy. Renee would look me in the face and laugh, but behind her eyes would be worry for my sanity. When—if—they saw my skin glittering in the sun they'd be even more shocked. And, if I were to confront them, they'd be speechless. Doesn't the deafening beauty come with the vampirism package? As conceited as it sounds, how would they react to their daughter being even more gorgeous than a photoshopped model? Probably very, very poorly.

Faking my death. First, I'll experience death. Then I'll fake it.

----

It really, truly is a broken record. One moment I'm in such pain that I can hardly open my mouth from agony, the next moment I'm fine, and then the next moment the agony is back. Each time the agony is worse than the last time—or at least my mind tells me that.

Like, right now, for instance. The flames—now hot and cold at the exact same time—lick up and down my frame, burning me once more.

Will it ever end? I don't know if I can stand this any longer. How long has it been? How long have my spasms of consciousness while being unconscious lasted? How long does it take me to get a thought to swirl around the plasma? And how long am I truly unconscious?

Is living with Edward forever really worth all of this pain?

If I could slap myself, I would. Of course this is all worth being with Edward for an eternity. Now I can live with him through the centuries. Now I can stand by his side and proudly say I'm his girlfriend. How could I ever question it?

But the pain is building. I doubt that I'll ever wake up.

----

Plasma lightens. I can open my mouth wider, but still cannot scream. But it's not because the flames have reached there once more. It's more or less as if I'm parched; so parched that my throat has shriveled up. There is no moisture in my body. All I can feel is this dry, aching slab of throat tissue.

I'm thirsty, I realize.

At least it seems the pain is dying down. But for real this time? Will I really begin to be free of this unconscious hold of pain? Or will I only be damned once again to feel the flames race across my body?

I don't know. I've been waiting for the pain to ease. It has not. I have no hope that it will, to be honest.

----

Much to my surprise, the pain is lightening, but the throbbing in my throat is becoming stronger. I'm blinded by this unquenchable thirst. What do I need to satisfy it? I have a hard time believing that a gallon—or twenty five gallons, for that matter—of water would help it. Could blood stop it?

Maybe. It's a possibility. But first the plasma has to cease if I am to get anything to help me. And for the plasma to decrease to a point that I can actually say that I am thirsty, I need to wake up.

The sting in my throat would probably be much worse in a conscious form. After all, I had passed out from pain. I had passed out so I could be shielded from the pain, even though I still felt it. It would have been worse if I had ever woken up, as I know only too well.

----

This thirst has a pulse of its own. I'd wet my lips if only the plasma would disappear. But, in a sense, it's beginning to dwindle even further away. I don't feel as if I have a blanket pressed against my face any longer. Could it be that this sample of purgatory is coming to an end? I hope so.

But then, this is when my fears begin to kick in. When—if—I wake up, I'll be a vampire. I will no longer be human. I've wanted this for so long, and now I'm getting it. When I wake up, I will be among the ranks of the damned. When I go back to high school, I will be able to truly sit with Alice and Edward without feeling like an outcast. I will not eat, just as they don't eat.

It's strange, knowing that I won't be able to eat any more. I mean, people will obviously think the Cullen family did something to me. Little do they know that they changed me into something that only lurks in their wildest nightmares.

And I'm really okay with that.

The whole eating issue will be awkward, though. I'll go feeding with Alice, most probably. That will be even more strange than going to high school and seeing how slow humans are (I know humans are slow thanks to Edward's teasing). I feel light headed thinking about blood, which hints me off that the thirst can only be quenched with blood. But I also feel anxious and nervous.

I don't want to think about this currently. I just want to wait out this plasma stage.

And, now that I truly think about it, the plasma lightens even quicker now. It's not pressing down on me any more. In a short while it should be the same as it would have been if I were human. Will it end there or will it keep decreasing until there is no more plasma swishing around my limbs as I move them?

I give myself my usual answer; I don't know. But I can feel myself stirring. The pain dwindles with the plasma. Now it barely feels like pain; it feels more or less as if I was standing out on a freezing cold day without a jacket and in a bathing suit. A freezing cold day equaling it being below freezing.

My body feels so awkward. My throat burns with the thirst, but everywhere else is cold and aching. I hope the cold will die down just as the pain and plasma has been.

----

The plasma is gone now. There is no plasma. I feel lighter than ever. I feel as if I could just float away when a wind current comes…

But the cold! It's horrible. I can't say it's almost as bad as the fire, but it certainly is bad. And yet, I can't complain; the pain is gone, all except in my throat. It still lives there, but that's to be expected. My body just worked in overdrive to protect me from the venom killing me, which turned me into a vampire. My newly vampric body must be worn out.

I understand why vampires drink blood. It's for the same reasons that humans eat and sleep. Your body works hard to allow you to do the things that you are able to do; walking, talking, breathing. It takes away a bit of your energy, and as those bits slowly build and you are left with less energy, you become hungry, tired, or both. Now, of course, I doubt my body can handle eating as much food as humans do, so it substitutes the need of food with another energy source; blood. That's not so bad, is it? Humans eat meat, after all. Humans kill animals, take their life source, and eat it. Why can't we drink it without taking the meat? Just because its blood…it shouldn't be so horrible…it shouldn't be so astonishing.

It's just blood, after all. Why is it so much worse than meat?

----

I think I'm coming back into consciousness—real consciousness. It's almost hard for me to believe, but I think I am. I can feel myself trying to fight past this cold and this pain in my throat and wake up. The only way to fix either of those things would be to ask Edward, Carlisle, or Alice for help, right?

I'm struggling away from unconsciousness. I can feel myself coming back. Now I can feel myself breathing—or at least I can feel my chest rising and falling. I feel even lighter than I did while I was unconscious. All I have to do is open my eyes…

But, why should I? I'm so comfortable, suddenly. The cold. I think I'll be able to handle it. The couch is warm against my freezing flesh, too. The plush material rubs against it in a soothing manner. My throat…that may be hard to endure, but if I could endure mini suns exploding, I believe I can stand this throat ache.

Can I endure not seeing Edward, though?

The thought of Edward makes me want to get up. I take a deep breath—it feels hollow since I don't need it—and slowly let it go. "Edward?" I call out quietly, even though it seems very loud. The simple words hurt my throat very badly; it feels as if sandpaper was rubbing violently against the already scarred tissue. I bite my lip from crying out in pain. I haven't opened my eyes.

Suddenly a hand grapples my own, tightening its grip. The skin seems normal, which makes me think it could be Charlie. But its voice betrays my beliefs. "Bella?" His voice is distressed, almost as if he's been waiting for it to happen.

Suddenly I hear silent footsteps padding into the hall. "Is she awake?" one of them asks almost loudly. There is no noise after that.

"Open your eyes," Edward orders me. I smile softly.

"Okay."

I open my eyes.


End file.
